


White-Hat Hacker Friends

by BuffyRowan



Category: Criminal Minds, Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Gen, aftermath of V-Day, because I love Garcia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-23
Updated: 2015-05-23
Packaged: 2018-03-31 19:54:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3990673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuffyRowan/pseuds/BuffyRowan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two months post V-Day, and Garcia's looking for something</p>
            </blockquote>





	White-Hat Hacker Friends

**Author's Note:**

> my friend and beta Python07 and I were chatting, and then I said, "What if Garcia . . ." and she suggested the nickname she uses, and then this goofy little fic was born.

Garcia winced as she began to type. While being holed up in her techno-lair had helped isolate her when the SIM card-induced crazy happened, she'd still ended up taking and giving some damage. Thankfully, the fractured wrist was about the worst of it. She ignored the discomfort-bordering-on-pain, though. It had been two months, and the team /needed/ a case. Dave and Derek had done some serious damage on each other, the others had attacked civilians, the only saving grace had been that Jack and Henry had come out of it with nothing more than a few bruises, nothing worse than what they'd have gotten falling off a bicycle. Unfortunately, the world-wide berzerker rage had interfered in a lot of open investigations, and had apparently spooked the crazed and depraved into dormancy. Which left the BAU sitting around, finishing paperwork, digging out cold cases, and generally driving themselves insane with guilt and other assorted feelings while they healed physically.

After a pass through every law enforcement and semi-legal database she had access to (whether she was technically supposed to have access or not) she had nothing. With a growl of frustration, she turned to some of the online conspiracy communities and news sites. When she came up empty there, she headed for an online hacker's hangout, strictly for white and gray hats. She'd barely signed in when she was posting to the chat boards, "Any of you have a whiff of an arsonist, a serial killer? At this point I'd take a particularly persistent stalker."

InotII replied immediately, "I might worry if I didn't have an idea what you do for a living."

"They hurt civilians. Doesn't matter there was mind control, they're practically wearing hair shirts, think they'll bring out scourges next."

"Did any blow their tops?"

Garcia snorted. Whatever InotII did for a living, he had a wicked sense of humor, dark as any agent's she'd ever met. Dry as the Sahara, too. "The Director did. Can't say any of us miss him too much. Too much politics, too little concern for victims."

He didn't log off, and he didn't say that he had to go away for a moment like he usually did, but he didn't reply for a while. "Glad to hear that. But are you sure they weren't on the waiting list for that upgrade, Tinkerhell?"

Garcia narrowed her eyes at the screen, "InotII, you imply that my team would have done anything but try to take that pyscho down hard again, and I will make it my life's work to trace you down and make your life a living hell previously unknown to civilized man."

"Fair enough. And I think I have just the thing for your team. Expect delivery day after tomorrow."

* * *

She didn't mention anything to the team, just in case InotII didn't come through with it. (The fact that Hotch, and probably Rossi and Derek considering how overprotective those two had been lately, might have . . . disapproved of the source of this case she was finding them had nothing to do with it, of course.) But she'd been lingering in the bullpen all morning, chatting and trying to lighten the mood while she waited.

Garcia didn't expect a man to walk in the doors and straight up to her. He wore an olive green sweater with leather patches on the shoulders that made her think of British war movies. The sweater didn't hide the fact that he was probably as stacked as her Chocolicious, even if he was probably closer to Rossi's age. He wore slacks and dress shoes, and carried a briefcase that screamed "serious business inside!" 

He didn't hesitate or look at Derek or Emily as they stood to flank her, "Tinkerhell, AKA Penelope Garcia, good to meet you in person." She managed to shake his hand like a normal human, despite his lovely Scottish accent and epic hacking ability frying her brain a little. "If you'd care to get your team assembled in a secure conference room, I have the material for them."

Tall, bald, and mysterious smirked a little when he saw the table in the briefing room, but immediately went business-blank again. He opened the briefcase and pulled out a clipboard that looked like the lovechild of an iPad and the clear tablets Stark was using the Avengers movie. Garcia fought down a wave of tech-envy as photos and dossiers appeared on the big screen like magic.

"I work with an intelligence agency. This is what we know of the multi-billionaire Valentine. This is Professor Arnold, whose climate theories appeared to be foundational to Valentine's plan for the world. This is Valentine's right hand, a woman known as 'Gazelle'. We are attempting to find more concrete data as we speak, though Valentine went to quite a lot of trouble to erase her identity prior to her employment with him. I also have all the data from Valentine's computer system regarding his plans, and a scanned copy of his handwritten list of VIPs and celebrities, both the willing and unwilling, that he deemed worthy to be saved." He looked at the team, "While my organization would prefer to keep this in-house, our leader . . . lost his head over Valentine's plans. Another member died in Valentine's test of the SIM card technology. There is video from a camera on his person during the test, and his following discussion with Valentine, before Valentine killed him in cold blood. In short, we're short-handed, and still recovering. But we need to know everything we can, make certain there is no one in Valentine's organization with knowledge and capability to continue this. We'd also like to make certain we have tracked down all of Valentine's assets, to be used in rebuilding the damages from that day. Ms. Garcia vouches for your team, would you be willing to take on the task?"

Hotch eyed him, "You work for an intelligence agency, but you didn't name it. Usually I'd ask you if this was legal, because I prefer to keep this team intact and out of trouble. However, in this case, I think I can speak for the entire team when I say we'd be happy to work up the profiles and point you to any surviving members of this man's elitist cult."

When InotII tried to gracefully hand out some flash drives and leave, Garcia grabbed his arm, "Oh, no, my Scottie Hottie. You are going to escort me to my domain so that I can begin my own cyberarcheology on this Gazelle's history--after you tell me about any back doors or weaknesses you found in my security. Because if you found me, an Unsub could, too. Been there, done that, don't want the instant replay, thanks."

He looked a bit taken aback, but then he nodded to her, and properly offered her his arm, "A gentleman is always happy to serve, whether it is opening the door, picking up the bill, or advising a lady on her firewalls."

**Author's Note:**

> Merlin's screen name, "InotII" is a nod to his Scottish heritage. In Edinburgh Castle, there is a coat of arms for Queen Elizabeth. However, there it shows her as being Elizabeth, no roman numerals to indicate "the second." That's because the first Queen Elizabeth was queen only of England, at that time Scotland was still independent, meaning that the current queen is Queen Elizabeth the first of Scotland. Yes, I'm a bit of a history nerd.


End file.
